


Lead Me Out To The Ocean

by Octobig



Category: Pillars of Eternity, Pillars of Eternity II: Deadfire
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, Fluff, No Spoilers, Post-Battle Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 03:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14991338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octobig/pseuds/Octobig
Summary: The tension within Aloth gets another meaning when he recalls the Watcher out on the battlefield, her teeth brilliantly white against the steel of one of her weapons, tongue darting out to swipe a drop of blood off the blade.That fine line of devastatingly beautiful but dangerous.Aloth wants to be there suddenly – desperately, to walk that line and find out where it goes. What happens if he twists his hands into her shirt, draws her close, and kisses that dangerous mouth. If he follows her not with his spells but with his hands and his body and his tongue. What happens if he pushes his hands into her hair and stays there, kisses the tips of her ears like daggers, draws her into him as much as she’s drawn him into her.[Or alternatively: Aloth barrels into having post-battle sex with the Watcher. There’s love involved.]





	Lead Me Out To The Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sorael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorael/gifts).



> For the lovely [Sorael](http://methodicalmadnessv1.tumblr.com/), whose Watcher Lana you can find [here](http://methodicalmadnessv1.tumblr.com/post/174105480963/power-is-a-couple-named-lana-and-aloth-corfiser), and whose excellent Aloth/Lana art piece you can find [here](http://methodicalmadnessv1.tumblr.com/post/175194939843/its-love).
> 
> The fic below was obviously inspired by the latter ;)

 

Aloth swallows away the tang of blood and salt as he climbs aboard _The Defiant_ , his grip knuckle-white when he pulls himself up by the railing. Behind him, the sea still splutters and sizzles around a sinking wreck, half ablaze; its sails torn and singed, its wood blackened and burnt through.

Another reason for the Watcher’s name to echo throughout the Deadfire.

( _Lana_ , Iselmyr hopefully supplies, _dinnae ye distance yerself by nae callin’ the lass by ‘er name_.)

He clenches his fists almost unknowingly and frowns. Over the years he’s learned to accept Iselmyr’s presence, but just because she can’t see his face doesn’t mean he can’t make his annoyance known.

The adrenaline of the battle they just fought is still pumping through his veins, and his back and shoulders form a tense line as he follows his companions onto the deck of the elegant little Dyrwood ship.

Tekēhu bellows a loud laugh while Serafan makes a show of attaching their attackers’ colors to the garland on _The Defiant_ ’s mast, and Ishizu flies overhead, crowing happily. This is what they do; celebrate their victory, clap each other’s backs, and take a swig of ale while they take their casualties into account.

(And in the meantime, scrub off the blood.)

Normally, Aloth would join his comrades, and share in their elation and joy. But something in him burns, and he turns his head slow, fingers twitching.

 _Lana_ , says a voice inside of him, and he isn’t sure whether it’s his own or Iselmyr’s – or both.

She stands away from the rest, a neutral expression on her face while she tosses her braid over one shoulder and smooths her bloodied palms down her tunic. She wipes off her daggers, too, and that simple motion brings back a myriad of memories.

Five years ago, she fought differently than she does now.

She’s more upfront, direct, vicious strikes bursting forth from the shadows while she hits her targets at the perfect time. Tackling their enemies to the ground, kicking sand into their faces, an expression of glory on a face usually _just_ this side of stoic – and Aloth can only ever _stare_ while she does it, a whirlwind of gleaming metal and cunning.

It makes his heart drop every single time.

His spells follow her while she trails over decks and through caves; no matter the width of the ocean, no matter the distance of a chasm. She jumps and he follows, and they destroy everything in their path.

He suppresses a shudder as he regards her, eyes following the lines of her frame.

Maia says something and Lana offers an easy smile in response, and then her hands are going for the edge of her blackened, bloodied tunic, and she whips it off and over her head. Edér laughs as she throws it overboard, the thing obviously ruined, and lets his own dirty shirt join it on the waves.

Aloth’s grip on the railing grows tighter.

His gaze is drawn to the wide slope of her shoulders, the curve of muscles in her upper arms; the slight scatter of freckles and birthmarks over the bare skin. The scar over her underarm, half-faded in the sunlight; he remembers it from way back when.

Way back when: rain a-pitter-patter while they stood in front of an inn in the Dyrwood and locked eyes for the first time.

Lana smiles again, chatting with Edér, and Aloth’s heart skips a beat when she brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face against the breeze. The motion draws attention to her ears, long and graceful, their tips sharper than those of his own.

 _Like daggers_ , he thinks absentmindedly, _like daggers_ –

And the tension within him gets a whole other meaning when he recalls yet another moment on the battlefield, her teeth brilliantly white against the steel of one of her weapons, tongue darting out to swipe a drop of blood off the blade.

That fine line of devastatingly beautiful but dangerous.

Aloth wants to be there suddenly – _desperately_ , to walk that line and find out where it goes. What happens if he twists his hands into her shirt, draws her close, and kisses that dangerous mouth. If he follows her not with his spells but with his hands and his body and his tongue.

What happens if he pushes his hands into her hair and stays there, kisses the tips of her ears like daggers, draws her into him as much as she’s drawn him into her.

Iselmyr croons, and he agrees with her – _wouldn’t that be a lovely way to burn?_

Lana’s eyes than meet his own, the glare of the sun making the honey color of them seem even softer than usual. A slight, puzzled frown pulls a line between her brows as she regards him, and she tilts her head to the side.

Aloth must have seen her move like that a hundred – no, a thousand times.

Yet it’s never any less endearing, not even when he wants to grab her by the collar and fuck her senseless over the nearest surface. He wonders briefly _when_ , raking his brain, little snippets of their history flying through his mind’s eye; when it started, when it sank into him, when it stayed.

Lana steps around Edér and starts making her way over towards him.

All Aloth can do is fold his hands together to hide the tremble in his fingers.

“Hey,” she says, voice gentle as she approaches, “are you doing okay? No injuries?”

Slightly concerned, she looks him over; hands brushing his wrists, and she plucks a stray leaf from his hair.

“None, thank you,” says Aloth, throat dry.

Lana crosses her arms in front of her chest, eyeing him suspiciously. “You sure you’re okay?” she presses.

That question echoes back a long, long way.

A deep, dank cellar, and his mind and heart distraught; his breath uneven. Her hand around his, warm and comforting and dry. A voice in the darkness, calling him home, when Aloth thought there wouldn’t be a place anywhere for someone like him.

_Stand by my side and not behind me._

“I need to have a word with you,” he blurts out, unable to stop himself.

Lana looks taken aback, but she nods. “Sure,” she says, “that’s – that’s fine. Let’s go down to my cabin.”

She walks past him and just as Aloth turns, her hand catches his, and she pulls him along. To the door leading down belowdecks, where the path splits off towards the hold and the other cabins.

It happens so fast he can barely blink, and then the door to the captain’s chambers closes behind him, and Lana stands at his front with a friendly but questioning expression on her face.

Waiting.

 _That’s when_ , his thoughts answer, catching up with the situation while Aloth’s palm still flares with the warmth of hers from moments before.

The sanitarium in Defiant Bay seems so very far away, but _that’s when_.

The rain dousing him by the inn is where it started, and the sanitarium is what brought Aloth where he is right now. It’s taken him years, and it’s taken him heartbreak and pain and fear – of getting too close, of not finding a space to fit.

But when he looks at Lana now, he sees the only place he will ever wish to be.

“Aloth?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “What did you want to – ”

It’s three quick strides across the wooden floor to close the distance between them, and one simple dip of his chin to lower his mouth to hers. Lana never even gets the chance to finish her sentence.

Her lips are a little chapped and taste of sea air; salty, sharp, but ultimately so very hers.

So very, very much hers.

Lana gasps and Aloth tenses, already moving back – _did he overstep, was he too quick, he should’ve asked_ – but then her hands are sinking into the hair at the nape of his neck and she’s pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

He can’t stop the pleased hum that escapes him at the motion and he cradles her jaw, angling his head into the kiss. The hunger almost consumes him when she opens her mouth below his own, licking eagerly at his lips.

“Lana,” he sighs, resting his forehead against hers.

Pleasure gathers at the base of his spine and spreads like wildfire, relief fizzling through his veins.

“Say something sooner next time,” she answers breathlessly, one of her thumbs brushing the shell of his ear. Her gaze is playful but dark, eyes flickering back to Aloth’s lips.

He half-laughs, fondness blooming in his chest. “I – ”

“Less talking,” Lana interrupts decidedly, “more kissing.”

Another rush of adrenaline, and Aloth grabs her by the collar to turn them and press her back against the door. Lana hits it with an audible bump, blinking at him, but the look she gives him is searing.

Deliberately keeping her eyes on his, she slides her hand between their bodies and starts unbuttoning her shirt. Going by how easily it parts and how the valley between her breasts comes into view almost instantly, she’s wearing nothing underneath.

Lana smiles as Aloth inhales sharply through his nose, his fingers tightening over her hipbone.

Hiding his blush, he bends his head to mouth at the skin just below her ear. Sucks softly at the spot her fingers brush whenever she tucks back her braid, his free hand sliding down to cover hers.

The buttons pop beneath both of their fingertips, exposing even more of her skin, and Lana shivers.

She shifts back against the door, staring at him with hooded eyes, and slowly slides a thigh between his own.

“Gods,” he groans, the pressure going straight to his groin, and his hips circle against her leg of their own accord.

Lana tugs at his hair to draw his mouth to hers again, and kisses him like she’s drowning. Sloppy, uncoordinated, little noises of pleasure hidden beneath her clever tongue and her insistent fingers.

Aloth pushes her shirt open fully, parting the sides, and he presses his palm against her lower belly.

There’s the uneven edge of a scar here, extending all the way up to her ribs; he follows it with a fingertip, featherlight. The muscles below the skin jump under his touch and Lana stares at him with longing.

It’s a brief moment of vulnerability between them, and her fingers in his hair soften.

“How long?” she asks then, voice barely above a whisper.

Aloth blinks at the sudden question, stopping the path of his index finger just below the curve of her breast.

“Years,” he answers, completely sincere.

A soft smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and she squeezes the back of his neck. There’s something there, words hidden at that spot where her lips tilt up and in the slight melancholy sweep of her lashes, but she doesn’t say anything.

She simply brushes her fingers through his dark hair, and her eyes are warm and bold as she sweeps her gaze over the line of his body.

 _Honey_ , he thinks, _but never this sweet._

(He will think it again later when he’s on his knees between her legs, and it’ll taste even sweeter.)

“In that case,” she murmurs, “don’t let me keep you waiting.”

Aloth decides that for all his meticulousness and slow, cautious approach to things – he shouldn’t make Lana wait. Nor himself. Not now that he finally has the woman of his dreams in his arms looking at him like he hung the moon in the sky for her.

And oh, wouldn’t the gods be jealous if he did?

Gently, he runs his fingers over the side of her face; the harsh sun of the Deadfire caused freckles to bloom over the bridge of her nose. Aloth leans closer, canting his hips into hers, and slides his hand down.

Over the side of her throat, thumb brushing the bob in it; lower, over where her collarbones mark the width of her shoulders with an attractive dip. He kisses it, sucking at the line of the bone, and he can’t stop his hands from wandering over the rise and fall of her ribs.

Lana’s leg between his pushes harder, higher, and her head falls back against the door on a long, deep sigh.

Aloth blinks back at the sparks in his vision, especially when she hooks the other leg around his hip and just _grinds_ , mindless and strong. He’s hard already; no sense hiding it when they’re pressed together like this but gods, if Lana isn’t making the most out of it.

She arches her back, hips rolling, and bites her lip as flicks his fingers against the tip of her ear.

And then her hands are going for his belt and she has it off in mere seconds, instantly brushing the sweep of his blue Aedyran tunic off and out of the way.

“Quick fingers, lassie,” Iselmyr says, and it’s out before Aloth can reign her back in. It’s a weird displacement of consciousness, a flicker behind his blue eyes, and he presses a hand to his mouth instantly.

Lana’s face, however, shifts into a lazy smirk. “Hello,” she says, calmly acknowledging Iselmyr’s presence. “Gloves next?”

Aloth feels his own face respond in an answering grin. “T’lad wants nothin’ else, dearie.”

That makes Lana laugh. “Me neither,” she murmurs, and then she’s pulling Aloth’s fingerless gloves off and away. She discards them to the floor into the ocean-like pool of blue fabric already at her feet.

Aloth’s brain is trying to catch up, stuck between the two most powerful women in his life who have apparently both decided that undressing him is a good idea – with Lana’s thumb flicking over the fastenings of his sleeveless shirt.

She runs her hand over his chest, her leg tightening around his hip, and they both sigh when she does so.

He kisses her again, a little desperate, tongue chasing her lips while he presses her back against the door.

“You did get bigger over the years,” she says, almost musing as she runs her fingers over the length of his arms.

That makes Aloth laugh, and he amusedly raises his eyebrow. “Really?” he asks, tone teasing.

Lana rolls her eyes, mouth opening to speak, but Aloth catches both of her hands in his own and presses them into the wood of the door above their heads. He sees first the surprise and then the arousal shift over her face, cheeks flushing red.

The motion arches her back further, anchoring her against him, and her shirt falls to the sides completely.

“I’d like to think I got stronger, too,” Aloth says, letting his eyes sweep over the curve of her breasts.

She shivers, goosebumps forming on her skin, and her nipples are hard and pink below his gaze.

He presses one hand over both of her wrists and leans in, his long hair brushing her belly, and doesn’t break eye contact as he hovers his mouth over her breasts.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” he asks, his bottom lip brushing against a sensitive nipple.

 _Go at ‘er, lad_ , says Iselmyr when Lana’s eyes turn from honey to fire, and Aloth’s gut clenches.

It’s hard to tell where he ends and she begins, but it’s both of them that sigh reflexively when Aloth finally closes his mouth over Lana’s breast.

She keens when he does so, arms straining under his grip; Aloth sucks harder, tongue swirling around the little bud. He knows she could escape his hold – they both do – but by the way Lana closes her eyes and leans back, trembling under his kisses, she doesn’t want to.

And Aloth loses himself in the feel of her skin.

He uses his free hand to gently trace circles over and around her breasts; cups them in his palm, the weight warm and solid. _Real_.

He can’t stop the gasp of wonder that escapes him while he gently twists a nipple between his fingertips, making Lana writhe back against the door. Aloth looks up, following the curve of her ribs, the pleasure openly playing over her face.

He drops her wrists from his hold, sliding a hand into her hair to draw her mouth back to his again. As soon as their lips touch, Lana pushes back against the door, both legs wrapping around his waist.

They both groan, and then Lana is taking the lead – tongue messily sliding over his own, and her hands sink into his hair. She tugs, _hard_ , and the noise that escapes Aloth isn’t quite a whine.

Iselmyr is there, half-laughing in his ear, and he adamantly resists the urge to fidget.

Lana catches his gaze, a knowing smile curling into her lips, and the beads in his hair fall to the floor with a clang. She cups his jaw and rolls her hips; pleasure flares up his spine, and he presses his face into her shoulder again to kiss the curve of it.

“You know,” she says, sounding remarkably unaffected for someone with her shirt open all the way and her lips swollen from their kisses, “this could be infinitely better with a bed.”

A pause, and her eyes rake him up and down. “And less clothes.”

Aloth clears his throat as he runs one hand over the underside of Lana’s thighs wrapped around his waist, feeling the strong muscle bunch under his palm. “You’re right,” he breathes, nosing her cheek.

His fingers catch on the bend of her knee and his mouth finds hers again; this time slower, more precisely.

“But?” Lana asks as they break apart, hearing the unspoken words.

“Well,” says Aloth, letting one of her legs slip down off of his waist to the floor, “let us say a certain Watcher taught me to…”

Here, he pauses; lets his fingers move over the fastening of Lana’s pants. Their eyes lock, and she nods, and he gently draws on the lacing. “To be more adventurous,” he continues, hooking his thumbs into the waistband.

Lana nods again, inhaling sharply, and Aloth starts stripping her pants over the slope of her hips, the tight muscles of her abdomen, and down over the bunch of her thighs. He lets his thumb brush over the edge of her smallclothes deliberately, and Lana’s breath hitches again.

Aloth shifts, balancing on the balls of his feet as he sinks down to his knees, peeling the tight fabric off of her, and –

“Oh,” he says, followed shortly by, “looks like ye really did drown in ta lass’ eyes, didn’ ye?”

She still has her knee-high leather boots on, and wouldn’t it be nice of a kraken broke through the ship’s stern right about now to swallow him on the spot.

Lana laughs, head thrown back against the door, and it rings clear and happily. “Thirsty, Aloth?” she asks playfully, scuffling the toe of her boot into the carpet on the floor.

“Quite,” he says, frowning up at her and feeling his cheeks heat.

She shakes her head, affectionately running her hands through his hair, and then she steps off to the side. Aloth barely has time to blink before she’s kicked off her boots, shimmied out of her pants _and_ her smallclothes, and then shucks off her shirt like it’s nothing.

It all falls to the floor to cover his tunic, and then she’s looking down at him, one hand on her hip, smiling lazily.

“Are you coming?” she asks, sauntering past him towards the bed, and Aloth has to take a deep, deep breath to steady himself.

Lana wears her confidence easily; obvious in the way she moves, the way she talks, and the way she walks. Aloth has only ever seen this body in battle – has only ever seen this body move because of danger. Elegant, yes; precise and vicious; certainly.

But he’s never seen her like _this_ ; never seen just how far the length of her legs stretched, never witnessed himself how the curve of her spine looks uncovered. Never seen how her hips shift and her body turns; never seen the markings of scars, freckles, moles, and other little irregularties over the shape of her.

It reminds him of uncovering the secrets in a grimoire; no page more attractive than the one revealing itself to him, arcane markings and all.

He rises from the floor, hands curled into tight fists.

Lana looks over her shoulder, still smiling; but smaller, more tender. A lover’s smile.

 _Never allowed yourself to look at these sorts of pages_ , he thinks, and it’s her lovely smile that outshines the rest of her by far.

“You first,” he croaks, ignoring the way his cock strains against the front of his pants.

She blinks once, puzzled. “Do what?”

“Coming,” he adds, walking towards her. He’s determined to do this right.

Lana looks infinitely pleased, biting her lip in anticipation; especially when Aloth presses gently against her shoulders and motions her to sit down on the edge of the bed. She looks halfway through giddy when he sinks to his knees and spreads her knees apart with his palms.

“I could get used to you like this, you know,” she says, a twinkle to her eyes.

Aloth offers her a small smile back. “I look forward to it,” he murmurs, leaning in.

“I’m going to shut up now,” Lana answers, tipping back onto the covers when Aloth drops a kiss to her knee.

It makes him grin against the sensitive skin of her thigh, but he hides his smile in the press of his lips. Scatters little kisses over the inside of her legs until he’s almost at the apex of them. She’s trembling, minutely, legs twitching – one of them hooks over his shoulder.

Aloth takes a shuddering breath; he wants to say something clever, but she overwhelms him completely.

Lana, stretched out naked and trusting – and dripping wet. Her cunt is already glistening and he hasn’t even touched her, hasn’t even pressed his fingers in or slid his mouth over her heat.

And he takes both pity on himself and on her and puts his mouth to better use than clever comments.

Her reaction is instantaneous; a full body shudder, a sharp gasp, and an immediate push of her hips towards his mouth when Aloth gently noses her open. He barely even has time to think about _how_ one does this, because she’s so soft and wet below him that –

(… _stop ponderin’, lad_ – )

Aloth moans her name brokenly, using his fingers to spread her for him so he can press his tongue to her clit. She tastes slightly bitter on his tongue, a tang of salt – _the sea, she’s like the sea_ – but he drinks it up as if it were honey.

Trickling down sickly sweet over his fingers as he wets them, gently circling her opening; hollows out his cheeks to suck her clit between his lips. Lana cries out, her fingers burying themselves in his hair.

She tugs on it again, albeit carefully, but it’s enough to make Aloth wish like he had something to rub himself up against. He manages to untangle one of her hands from his dark locks without looking up, and laces their fingers together.

Lana squeezes, hard, and her thighs tremble over his sensitive ears.

“Aloth,” she gasps, “Aloth, your fingers – ”

He licks at her, using the flat of his tongue; first, a slow flick against her clit, and then he lets his tongue dip into her. The taste of her makes him groan, and there’s so much, wetting his lips and his chin.

“Please,” she says, and Aloth redoubles his efforts, resisting the urge to reach down and touch himself.

He sucks at her, sloppily, his mouth making an obscene noise as he does so.

But then Lana’s hand is tightening in his hair, so much so that she tugs his face up and he blinks in surprise, dragging himself away. She’s leaning up on his elbows as much as she can; face flushed, lips set in a determined line.

Her braid has loosened a bit, fanning a few stray hairs over her shoulder, and it makes her look more disheveled than usual. Aloth instantly realizes he wants to see her like this more often.

“Few things irritate me more,” she half-huffs, “than seeing you obsessively leaf through books when I know how much more those hands are capable of.”

Aloth stares at her, momentarily dumbfounded, but then she pointedly looks down to the space between her legs. It’s instinct that makes him bring his fingers to his lips and suck on them, closing his eyes – and he hears her breath hitch.

“I’ll be sure t’leaf through ye, lass,” he says, eying her a little mischievously; it’s his own voice, with some of Iselmyr’s accent laced through.

Lana flops back onto the bed at that, an arm thrown over her eyes. “Please fucking do,” she groans, and Aloth presses a finger against her and instantly sinks into her up until the second knuckle.

He seals his mouth over her clit again, sucking gently, and lets his finger slide deeper. There’s barely any resistance; just warm wetness to lose himself in.

And so he does.

He knows that it’s a thing, he thinks bemusedly as he licks into her, finger going back and forth. Aloth’s hands have a life of their own, always moving, never resting – and over the years…

Lana moans, stuttering and deep, when Aloth presses a second finger alongside the first and slowly slides them in before curling them upwards. The leg she has draped over his shoulder shakes as she bites at her palm to stifle her sounds, and his cock throbs in response.

Well, over the years they’ve grown quite deft.

 _So there’s good t’be had from readin’ books eh,_ Iselmyr says, and Aloth smiles into Lana on the next stroke of his fingers.

She’s fully getting into it now, pushing back against his rocking wrist, and Aloth tries to establish a rhythm with his tongue that will give her enough to reach completion. But gods, it’s hard to concentrate – Lana is _everywhere_.

A hand tugging on his hair, a leg draped over his shoulder, her cunt quivering against his lips and the steady motion of his wrist. Her moans filling his ears like her taste fills up his mouth, clogging his senses with sex and heat and _love_.

Aloth moans into her, fingers stuttering when he feels her tightening around the slick digits, and stares up at her through his lashes. Under his ministrations, her chest rises and falls rapidly, fingers gripping the sheets. Mouth open on yet another gasp, a small frown between her eyebrows, carved by pleasure – and gods, Lana is beautiful.

He fucks her a little harder with his fingers, and then her eyes flutter open as she bites her lip.

“Aloth,” she says, again tugging on his hair, “let’s just – ”

Her voice breaks, and she doesn’t end up finishing her sentence. She shifts her legs, wide and open, and then she’s dragging him up her body with vigor. Aloth’s knees hit the edge of the mattress a little weirdly and he sort of stumbles onto her, but then Lana is kissing his mouth so ardently he just forgets.

She _must_ be able to taste herself on his tongue, but either she doesn’t care or it’s making her feel more in the mood – cause she’s gently thumbing his jaw, pressing her body up against him, grinding her hips against his own.

Aloth pushes her back into the mattress, fingers trailing over her leg, and allows himself a moment of desperately seeking friction. He breaks the kiss to mouth at her throat, pressing himself between her thighs.

“My turn,” says Lana then, grabbing Aloth by the collar.

He barely has time to think and then there’s already the wooden planks of the ceiling above him in a flash; Lana’s rolled them over expertly, a roguish grin on her face that makes him shiver.

She raises an eyebrow and then she’s undoing the fastenings of his shirt, breasts pressed against him, and Aloth knows he’s blushing when she parts it to the side and tugs the garment off of his shoulders.

He leans back on his elbows to help her get rid of it, and then there’s another tender moment where she’s straddling his lap, thumbs following the curve of his back. Aloth can’t help it; he steals a kiss, sweet and chaste, and is rewarded with an affectionate smile.

“I’m going to ravish you now,” Lana promises, and he makes a small, pleased sound at the back of his throat.

Lana’s nails graze his skin, skimming his nipples, making him gasp and arch his back – and then she’s sliding further down the length of his body, discarding his boots and working on the lacing of his trousers. She deliberately grinds the heel of her palm against the line of his cock, winking, and Aloth swears he sees stars.

“Didn’t you once tell me I had a clever tongue?” she asks semi-innocently, eyebrow raised.

Aloth wants to say yes, but he finds it hard to form words.

Especially when Lana, without breaking eye contact, confidently wraps a hand around the base of his cock and draws him out of his smallclothes. Her mouth is poised above the head of it, lips still curled into an attractive smile.

“You did,” he eventually manages, voice hoarse, and it’s really difficult to not tilt his hips up towards her mouth.

Lana smiles wider, and grips him a little tighter. “Enjoy,” she murmurs, and then she closes her eyes and agonizingly slowly wraps her tongue around the head of his cock.

And sucks it in, her hand still firm at the base.

“Oh _gods_ ,” Aloth gasps, fist pressing against his mouth, toes curling against the covers.

Lana goes about the task as she approaches everything in life – fast, thorough, and inexplicably _good_. Her mouth and hand work in tandem; gentle jerks that bring him closer to the heat of her mouth, and her quick tongue smoothing over the sensitive underside of his cock.

When she starts sucking a little harder, bobbing her head up and down, Aloth finds he barely has the strength to keep his hips still. They swivel up towards her of their own accord, and then she’s grasping them with her other hand – and that hand presses down on his abdomen, palm flat.

Aloth curses, softly, and Lana chuckles around him – and gods that just makes him want her _more_.

She takes him deeper; pleasure floods his lower belly, making his muscles jump underneath the insistent press of her palm. Lana takes a deep breath through her nose, and their gazes meet across the span of his body.

That honey turned flame, and Aloth feels like he’s drowning.

“Lana,” he says, breathless and reaching his hand out towards her, “Lana – ”

She closes her eyes and slowly takes him all the way until her nose is brushing his belly, and he can feel her throat work itself around him. The pressure and the heat of it is maddening, and he’s grabbing fistfuls of the covers and biting his lip because it’s too much, it’s too good –

She swallows him down, moaning as her lips stretch around his cock, and Aloth is done for.

“Wait,” he says, weakly, “stop, darling, Lana – let me…” he trails off, biting his lip and shaking his head.

It’s getting more and more difficult to concentrate. He just _wants_ , thoughts foggy and heady with lust.

( _And love. Always love._ )

Lana draws back with a wet pop when his cock slips out of her mouth. She wipes her chin with her wrist, looking at him innocently. “Yes, Aloth?”

He says nothing but simply sits back, taking her hand in his and drawing her over him. Her expression changes slightly when she straddles his legs; from smugness to something quieter, eyes carefully studying his face.

Aloth looks up at her, delicately stroking his fingers over the tips of her ears, and Lana shudders.

“Let me do this?” he asks. “Let me…”

He runs his thumb over her bottom lip, swollen and wet from the way she just sucked him in. Her eyelashes flutter as she blinks, and she looks ravenous.

“Yeah,” she breathes, and he hears the want in it. “Fuck me.”

Something in him snaps when she says that and he rolls them over instantly, pinning her to the bed. Lana looks pleased and wide-eyed, one arm sneaking around his neck to press her fingers into his hair, and her thighs part below his hips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, because he hasn’t said it today and he _needs_ to.

He thinks he sees something of surprise flicker over her features, but then she’s grasping his hip with her other hand and it’s so wildly desperate that Aloth can’t linger.

Despite the gravity of this moment and the meaningfulness of it (or perhaps because of it?), his hand doesn’t shake when he holds himself steady and slowly presses into her. She’s still so wet and open that’s easy to slide in, almost too much so, and Aloth grits his teeth, taking it slow.

Lana’s head tips back, exposing her throat, and her legs are trembling around his hips. “Didn’t I say it,” she half-gasps, swallowing thickly, “that you’ve gotten bigger?”

It makes Aloth chuckle despite himself. “Not a lot changed about _this_ part,” he says, hand moving away. “Is it…”

She nods instantly. “Yes,” she gasps, “yes, please don’t stop, keep going, and don’t – ”

Her moan is broken and high when Aloth lets himself sink in all the way, meeting no resistance and only warm, wet heat. He rests his forehead against hers briefly, hands on either side of her shoulders, and takes a moment to collect himself.

“I think we’ve waited long enough,” he says, losing himself in her gaze, “don’t you?”

Lana nods and leans up, a frantic kiss pressed to his mouth, and Aloth starts moving. Testing the waters first with slow, careful grinds – but the woman below him is noisy and greedy, hips pushing up to meet his, nails scratching over his back and through his hair.

She’s so wet he can feel her slick press against his abdomen with every slide into her and it’s slowly driving him insane – he shifts, leaning back, and Lana almost wails on the next upstroke.

“Again,” she says, pupils blown wide and mouth slack, “gods, please, do that again.”

Muscles straining, Aloth sits up slightly, pressing one knee to the bed and using it as leverage to strengthen his thrusts. Lana wraps her legs around his hips, body arching to be able to touch his.

Her hair fans out over the covers, still in that trademark braid – reds mixing with his own black hair, messily hanging over their faces and shielding them from the outside world. And Aloth’s world does stop for a moment there, eyes locked.

He thrusts once at the new angle; they both moan, and he thrusts again, _harder_.

Lana’s eyes close with pleasure and he can feel her clench around him – he kisses the side of her face, ghosts his lips over the shell of her ear, and sucks a mark over the slope of her shoulder that he’s sure will be there for days.

But gods, it’s too – he doesn’t –

“Please,” Lana says again, flush high over her cheekbones, “I want you – just - ”

He nods, finding her hand. He takes it, pressing it back against it mattress – and rather than holding her there, keeping her there like he had her against the door of the cabin, he laces their fingers together. Lana shudders, legs curling tighter around him, and kisses him again.

There’s too much movement and too much feverish excitement on both their parts; she’s everywhere, tongue on his breath and lips on his chin, and her fingers are almost too tight around his own.

Aloth steadies himself and starts fucking into her as hard as he can. The slap of their bodies in the quietness of the room and the wet slide of his cock into her only spur him on further, and he can feel that bright ribbon of pleasure in his gut unfurling.

The woman of his dreams; his best friend, his partner, his _lover_ in his arms and below him.

Eyes stormy with pleasure, looking up at him as if he’s giving her the world.

Aloth groans, throwing his head back.

_Not long now._

He wraps an arm around the small of her back to hoist her higher against him; the motion puts his abdomen tighter against her own, and by the stuttering of her breath he confirms that he’s rubbing against her clit with every thrust into her body.

“Lana,” he says, increasing speed, “can you – can you come like this?”

She nods, moaning, trying to meet his thrusts with her own. “Oh gods, Aloth, _yes_ ,” she gasps, and her thighs are trembling around his back.

He smiles, then, feeling affection for her rise in his chest as steadily as he can feel his impending orgasm starting to build. The snap of his hips is getting slightly more irregular now, and he can’t fully control it – can’t stop the sweet cadence of him into her.

He runs his fingers through her hair lovingly, trying to grind his hips upward to hit that spot inside of her that makes her almost wail. She’s so yielding and soft below him that it’s hard to find that angle but then she’s gasping and moaning again, rubbing herself against him, and her cunt grows a little tighter still.

She kisses him, and it hits him like a punch to the gut.

Lana, spread out below him, legs wide and body open; her eyes fiery, lashes sweeping over her cheeks with every step towards that slow descent into pleasure. Her fingers squeezing his once, _twice_ , and the quick pulse of her heartbeat against his own.

 _Love_ , he thinks, and Iselmyr’s quietness is a resounding yes.

His hips start moving faster and she cries out, clinging onto him, nails leaving sharp marks over his spine, and Aloth’s world collapses.

“I love you,” he gasps out, “Lana, I – ”

He sees her eyes widen in shock, but then the thrill of pleasure overcomes him completely. His hips stutter against her as he moans, head thrown back, and he has enough sense left in him to press harder against her – letting his lower belly press against her clit.

He’s still seeing sparks behind his eyes, pleasure white-hot and flaring when he hears Lana’s answering cry. She pulls him down for another sloppy kiss, tongue diving into his mouth, and her teeth a sharp nip on his bottom lip.

She clenches rhythmically around him, milking him further with each stroke inside of her, and her kiss swallows up the desperate little noises that still fall from his lips. He opens his eyes, managing a few last pumps of his hips between hers to draw out her orgasm, and Lana’s face is relaxed in pure bliss.

“Aloth,” she says, hair damp against her brow, and her fingers twitch against his own. “Aloth, I…”

He hushes her lightly. “You don’t have to say anything,” he says, voice quiet and raw.

“You bet your fantastic ass I do,” she laughs, shaking her head. “That was wonderful.”

She unlaces their fingers next, and presses a kiss to the back of his hand. “ _You_ ’re wonderful.”

Aloth knows he’s blushing as he slowly inches back; they both sigh when he slides out, and his cheeks flush further as he watches his come drip out of her. “Oh,” he says, “do you want me to… take care of that?”

Lana blinks. “Wait, what? You’ve got something better than a washcloth?”

He snaps his fingers and it slowly dissolves, making Lana stare at him in wonder. She hums in approval, but then her expression turns a little darker.

“That’s… handy to know,” she says mischievously, smiling. “For the future, you know.”

Aloth’s throat suddenly feels a little tight. “Ah yes,” he says, “the future.”

As conversationally as one would say something to try and avoid the topic.

“I told you,” Lana says, reaching out over the bed and grasping his hand. “I told you, Aloth. You’re wonderful and I…” she pauses, briefly looking away.

Takes his hand, and places it over her heart.

Her eyes are sharp and honest, and Aloth’s own heart skips a beat. “I want this,” she says, “I want you.”

“Lana,” he says, and it comes out like he doesn’t fully believe what she’s saying.

But she smiles, cupping his face. “It’s true,” she murmurs. “Many long, long years. Agonizing over you and your evasive nature. Wondering whether you’d even be interested.”

“I’m not evasive,” Aloth says, and Iselmyr adds in a rush: “Surely ye are!”

Lana laughs, and continues. “No, look, listen,” she says, kissing his hand again, “I’m teasing you. This is a perfect moment. That we came back to each other after five years is just…”

She shakes her head as if to clear it, and scoots a little closer to him. “It’s perfect.”

The satisfaction sinks into his bones, then, almost luxuriously so, and Aloth realizes that he’s tired. He smiles at her, rolling his shoulders, and Lana’s own smile is very fond. She touches his cheek, tapping his nose with one finger.

 _This is enough_ , he’s already telling himself.  _It’s fine if you just have this –_

“I love you, too,” says Lana, and Aloth’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest.

He runs his fingers over the side of her face, utterly mesmerized, and pointedly ignores the prickle of wetness at the corners of his eyes. The way she looks at him – he’d do anything to have that every single day of his life.

She’s still smiling.

“Lie down next to me?” she asks, and he nods. No words necessary.

He slowly sinks down onto the mattress; the bed is soft and welcoming, but Lana’s arms and body are even more so, and Aloth never, _ever_ , wants to let go. He presses his temple to hers, and Lana kisses his cheek.

“I love you, too,” she whispers again over the messy fan of his hair, her hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Aloth smiles into her shoulder.

 _Stand by my side and not behind me_.

She was right, as always. This is perfect.

This is where he wants to be.

 

**Author's Note:**

> sorael, thank you so much for loaning me these lovely idiots and letting them fuck and say their respective i love yous. i've had so much fun writing this and couldn't have done it without you and some of your excellent, excellent ideas and dialogues. it was a beautiful, collaborative effort & thank you for all the memes, too ♥
> 
>  **TL;DR:**  
>  aloth: _cums and dies_  
>  peace out  
> he's gone  
> lana: HELLO? _did i just get played_
> 
> come and find me [on tumblr](http://octobig.tumblr.com/)
> 
>    
>  **If you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it, please consider pressing that kudos button! Thank you ♥**


End file.
